new chapter... as promised: Ducklings past and present, Ol' friends and a big differential because House is not just "a stubborn adolescent idiot" (dixit Cuddy in 3.11 "Words and Deeds"...) he's also Head of the Department of Diagnostic Medicine, isn't he? and somehow, he hasn't earned that title for any reason...

** CHAPTER 17 **

It was lunchtime. Foreman had joined Chase and Cameron in the cafeteria to enjoy a quiet little chat with them and try and loosen up after the morning madness.

"I'm telling you he's different," he was saying to them. "I mean, he doesn't act normal."

"House never acts normal," Chase rectified, biting greedily in his sandwich.

"What makes you think there's something going on?" Cameron asked, sounding more genuinely interested than she wanted to show.

"I don't know," Foreman answered. He smiled knowingly at the two doctors. "He came to work in the middle of the night, whistling."

Chase nodded approvingly, winking in a way that said only they, men, could understand the implied meaning of that kind of behavior. Cameron caught the little coded glance between them and rolled her eyes.

"Maybe House is not the happy, chanting kind of guy but that doesn't mean he has to be miserable all the time. I don't see why he can't whistle without it sounding completely apocalyptic!"

Chase tenderly smiled at her.

"Honey," he said, "it's House we're talking about. Anything unusual about him could be apocalyptic."

"My guess is he's seeing someone," Foreman stated looking at the both of them alternatively, waiting for a reaction.

"Why would you think that?" Cameron inquired first.

"Hmm, let's see," he teased, pretending to give it a real thought. "He's, uh, happy?"

"Wow!" Chase chuckled. "You mean, there's actually someone out there who can make House happy?"

"That would certainly require having some very specific qualities," Cameron said with a slight trace of bitterness in her voice.

"Like what?" Chase teased, turning his head to her and smiling.

"I don't know," Cameron answered seriously. "House likes… challenges."

"So, the real question is: who could be challenging enough for House to be that someone?" Foreman commented, with a knowing look that implied he already had an answer to suggest.

The three of them exchanged glances over the table, saying without a word that they all had the same idea. Cameron opened her mouth to say something about that someone whose identity anybody knowing House a little could easily guess, but most ironically, she got interrupted by that very, not so mysterious person's voice.

"How did it go with the biopsy?"

Foreman immediately straightened up in his chair like a disciplined employee and looked up to meet Cuddy's inquiring gaze on him.

"We couldn't do it," he answered. "She started to have seizure during the echo. We controlled it with an IV shot of benzodiazepine, but she was too weak for the biopsy."

Cuddy sighed, showing she was caring about the patient's health and that, somehow, the deteriorating status of the young woman was starting to upset her. She quickly looked around the cafeteria with a scanning glance and turned her head back to Foreman.

"Where's House?" she asked edgily.

Foreman glanced up at Cuddy with a defeated look on his face, silently confessing that he had no idea.

"He'd better not have disappeared! I hope he's somewhere figuring out how to treat the patient effectively this time! And by the way, shouldn't you be with him, or the others and run some tests or something?"

Cuddy shook her head, annoyed, then turned on her heel before walking away with a determined pace. Chase raised his eyebrows to show he was quite impressed and gave Foreman a look of sympathy.

"I guess it means lunchtime's over, mate!" he mocked friendly.

Foreman wiped the corner of his mouth with his napkin and threw it in his plate before standing up.

"I'd like to stay with you guys longer," he said, shooting Chase a smug look, "but since I've finished eating, I don't see a reason why I shouldn't go!"

Walking the talk, he left the cafeteria and headed back to the Department of Diagnostic.

# # # # #

"What were you and Cuddy talking about this morning?"

House was closely following Wilson in the cafeteria line, adding his personal food choices on his friend's tray.

"About what?" Wilson asked, putting a salad next to House's chips and tuna sandwich.

"If I knew, I wouldn't ask, you idiot!" House exclaimed, shouting directly in his ear above his shoulder.

Wilson jumped in surprise but quickly recovered before turning his head to smile serenely at House

"If you must know, we talked about you," he said, grabbing an apple.

"You mean you, as in me or you as in-" House asked, deliberately leaving the word hanging in the air.

"I mean you as in you and her," Wilson replied.

They'd arrived at the end of the line and Wilson grabbed his tray to head to the cashier's counter. House quickly caught him up and added a chocolate muffin on it just before the cashier could count all the articles that needed to be paid.

"What did you say to her?" House insisted.

"I didn't say anything. She did!"

The woman at the cashier's desk announced the amount of the check. Wilson waited passively, holding his tray in front of her. House, feeling awkwardly and unusually observed, turned to his friend, and stared at him with a quizzical gaze.

"You said you'd buy me lunch if I fixed this!" Wilson explained, with a broad grin.

House's eyes widened in complete astonishment.

"What! You're not even close to fixing this!" he exclaimed. "You're far from fixing this. Actually, I think you just made this worse. That's what you did!"

The cashier coughed and looked at the both of them impatiently.

"Excuse me! Someone has to pay for this. There're people waiting."

In one quick motion, House snatched his sandwich, chips and muffin out of Wilson's tray and walked away into the crowded cafeteria room. Wilson sighed resignedly and smiled sheepishly to the cashier before fishing his wallet into his jacket's inner pocket. Once he'd paid, he scanned the room to locate his friend and promptly headed toward him as soon as he did.

"Sorry, but didn't you both get what you wanted? A night full of sex, no strings attached," he said, as he joined House at the table.

House's mouth fell agape, and he looked up at Wilson with an inquiring gaze.

"Is that what she said?"

"I don't know! I can't help you, House, because I honestly don't understand what you guys want," Wilson admitted when he saw the look of confusion on his friend's face.

After his little chat with Cuddy in the morning, Wilson thought he'd understood that both she and House wanted to make it casual but, suddenly, things didn't seem so sure anymore.

He took a seat opposite to House and he smiled emphatically to show he was sorry. As House looked at him, his lips set in stubborn silent, Wilson grabbed a fork and started eating his salad to divert himself from the heavy feeling of awkwardness that was floating in the air. In front of him House seemed absent. He was twiddling with his napkin and hadn't touched his food yet. It clearly was a sign that something was worrying him.

"Ooh, maybe Cuddy was using you to get pregnant?" Wilson suggested out of the blue, in an attempt to take the drama out with a joke.

House glared at him, which strangely annoyed Wilson. Hell, maybe his joke was lame, but eventually, he wasn't the one responsible for that twisted situation: They were! Over the last two days, and actually the last past months, they'd kept storming in his office, either complaining or ranting about one another which – Wilson was no fool – was mostly to hide the fact that they were desperately longing for each other, secretly hoping for things to move forward between them, and seeking for approval and validation, even though they stubbornly refused to admit it.

Now, they'd done it: They'd finally slept together! Well, good for them! But for God's sake, how could he, Wilson, do anything to change the fact that it didn't work? It wasn't his fault after all! They'd both looked like they wanted this to happen, and then this morning, quite puzzlingly, it's seemed like they didn't. And now, House looked disappointed and confused and, frankly, Wilson didn't get it. There was nothing rational about that situation and he found it utterly irritating.

"What?" he exclaimed, letting his anger out. "What can possibly shock you, now? You know sex can lead to making babies sometimes. It's not a gross word! Cuddy wanted one so, assuming she gets pregnant, she probably wouldn't terminate-"

At some point during Wilson's little monolog, House narrowed his eyes and stared blankly in front of him with an inspired look that said he just had an epiphany. Without a word, he promptly got up and started striding away, leaving Wilson dumbstruck.

# # # # #

Coming directly from the cafeteria, House headed to his floor and stormed into the conference room where his team was already gathered around the glass table, studying the patient file, and trying to get some answers in medical reviews documenting similar cases. As soon as he stepped foot in the room, Foreman immediately informed him that Cuddy was looking for him.

"Forget about Cuddy!" House exclaimed, promptly dismissing the subject with a flourish. "What causes nausea, vomiting, low BP, radiating pain in the shoulder and peritonitis?"

"Tests confirmed an ancient, non-treated Chlamydia infection so we've already established it was salpingitis," Thirteen said raising her head.

"Yes, you have. And Daddy's very proud of you. But then, why is the patient still not feeling better?"

Having no rational explanation to give, Thirteen forced a smile and lowered her gaze.

"It's only been 24 hours since she's on antibiotics for the infection. She needs more time for the meds to stimulate her weakened immune system," Taub rationalized.

"Thanks for playing along Dr. Taub, but even if you're partially right, we should, again, at least have observed some improvement in the patient status already. Instead, what happened this morning?"

"She had a seizure," Kutner said, stating an already known fact.

"Yes but, explaining why is more interesting than just saying she did."

Everyone looked at each other, confused, waiting for one of them to have an insightful suggestion to make.

"Ok, here's a hint," House said standing at the end of the table, juggling with his cane. "Did she have red eyes when she was first admitted to the E.R?"

Foreman hastily checked into the patient's file.

"It said she was vomiting and complaining about nausea," he read.

"She also had more than the reasonable dose of alcohol," Taub added, a little annoyed. "She was drunk, that's all."

"Taub's right," Thirteen said supportively, taking the file from Foreman's hands to check something. Flipping through the pages, she finally found what she was looking for. "2.3mg," she announced. "With this blood alcohol concentration, she probably had red eyes, yes." She kept on browsing the file and then added, "ok so, it says here that she, indeed, had red eyes but it's not written down as a symptom. It's just a report of her drunken status."

"So, you're saying it's not relevant?" House asked challengingly.

"I don't know but, apparently they didn't consider it was important in the E.R."

"Oh, so now we can't assume something's relevant unless it's considered important by the E.R medical staff?

Thirteen sustained House's gaze for a few seconds but yielded and finally looked away.

"Why does it matter if she had red eyes?" Foreman said, curious.

"Finally, someone's raising a good point! I was beginning to think I was the only one making the differential here! Oh wait, actually I am the only one making the differential or, I'd rather say I'm not making a differential: I'm just giving you the answer."

"What answer?" Kutner requested growing impatient.

"She had red eyes because she has conjunctivitis. Combine it with the fever, the dysuria and the seizure-"

"Reiter's syndrome?" Foreman offered.

House looked at him and theatrically nodded. Thinking they had their diagnosis, Taub and Thirteen started to stand up, ready to move on to the next part of the process already: Administrate the right meds and cure the patient. But Kutner remained seated and kept looking at House.

"Reiter's syndrome explains the fever, the red eyes and the dysuria but, what explains the lump in the abdomen?" he asked, knowing that there was still something that needed to be clarified.

House proudly looked at him with a plain, satisfied smile.

"Ha, good question Kutner!" He looked at the others faking disappointment. "As to you, shame on you! You were already rushing away and yet, it was just about to become interesting."

Taub and Thirteen glanced at each other intrigued, and sat down docilely, thereby admitting they probably had jumped to conclusions a bit too hastily.

"See," House started, while the four eagerly waited to hear a rational explanation that would finally make sense. "Kutner is too romantic."

Kutner opened his mouth to protest but House cut him off.

"You were not very bowled over the salpingitis' diagnosis to begin with. And isn't it strange, by the way, that it was Thirteen's idea to propose this so sexually-related disease in the first place?"

It was Thirteen's turn to look at House, a little shocked but, as she knew it was only a game designed to make his point, she smirked and eventually said nothing. House acknowledged her silence with a discreet nod and went on.

"Truth is you don't need to be in a relationship to have sex, however shocking that might sound," he added bitterly.

Kutner tried to react, but House was obviously on a roll and didn't give him a chance to say anything.

"Oh and, I say 'you' but actually it doesn't include you," House exclaimed theatrically, looking directly at Taub. "Coz you already know that, don't you? I mean, the guy's married but he keeps philandering-"

"House!" Foreman interrupted. "Do you have a point?"

"Oops, sorry! Did I get carried away?" House replied, smiling roguishly at him. "You're right: There's no time for joking coz our patient might be dying. What I'm trying to say here is that our twenty-one year-old young woman is not only an alcoholic, she's also a very naughty girl."

He waited a few seconds to let his last words sink in.

"She had sex!" he added. "Plenty of it. Most probably unsafe sex, hence the salpingitis and the Reiter's syndrome as a complication of it. Problem is, once you start acting like a stupid, irresponsible slut, why should you stop?"

"What do you mean?" Kutner asked, eager to make the best out of House's explanation.

"She got pregnant!"

"You mean she's having a baby?" Taub inquired doubtfully.

"I know you think I'm not into the big family concept thing but 'a lump in the abdomen'? Do you really think I'm that insensible I would call it a baby?" House exclaimed, faking to be shocked.

"If she's not pregnant, what is it then?" Thirteen asked to re-focus on the patient.

"What would you do if you're twenty-one, completely carefree, no obligation, living just for the fun, getting drunk and having sex with random guys, until you found out your little Saturday nights orgies have just gotten you pregnant?"

"I'll have an abortion!" Kutner said, childishly excited by his insight.

"Well not you, obviously!" House mocked. "But yeah, you're right. That's what she certainly did. And judging by her total lack of responsibility, I'd say she probably didn't have just one. Which is why, if we'd done the echo this morning, we probably would have seen the multiple scars that the repeated curettages she had to terminate her pregnancies have left her."

"But-" Kutner started and then stopped, censoring himself before he could say anything stupid.

"With the salpingitis and the weakened immune system left by the Reiter's syndrome, those repeated interventions eventually gave her the one infection too many her body couldn't deal with."

Everyone looked at House with interrogative eyes.

"Pelvic phlegmon," he stated, hitting his cane on the floor to emphasize his brilliant deduction.

They all remained seated for a while, waiting for the next deductive point that would follow, not entirely sure House was done with his reasoning. But House tilted his head to the side and gave a circular look at every one of them around the table, and then he exclaimed joyfully:

"What are you waiting for? Go, go, go! Start her on Sulfasalazine for the Reiter's syndrome and give her 2g of Gentamicin for the phlegmon.

"She's 120 lbs. It's quite a high dosage-" Foreman objected.

"We don't have much choice, do we? We've already lost enough time," House cut him off, firmly establishing there would be no discussion about this. "It's either that or she loses her uterus if the meds don't start kicking the infection out of her system in the next twenty-four hours."

Foreman nodded and the four all stood up and hastily left the conference room to do what they were told.

House looked at them walking away and went to his office. He sat down at his desk and glanced at his watch. It wasn't even the middle of the afternoon yet and he was terribly missing her already. He sighed heavily. What was the point anyway if he was only a game to her? He put his elbows atop the desk and bowed his head, cupping his face inside his hands, slowly rubbing his forehead to try and gather his thoughts.

He wanted to understand what had gone wrong but there was no rational explanation he could think of. They'd been great together the night before and, except for the conversation they had in the elevator that morning, he couldn't think of a single thing that would lead to him thinking that what they'd shared wasn't, if not serious, at least meaningful.

Sure, Cuddy was still that same annoying, bossy, albeit tremendously sexy woman who always gave him a reason to take up a challenge and still find it exciting. She only had to enter a room and she made his head spin. She was the only woman that could drive him so crazy he thought he might punch her sometimes but despite that, she was the only one House wanted to hold in his arm instead. She was the only woman with whom he knew he wouldn't get bored, the only one unpredictable enough to be able to surprise him, and way too sincere and honest to ever think about lying to him.

Still, even if he so badly wanted to believe in that, it changed nothing about the fact that, in the end, everybody lied. And maybe, sadly, even she wasn't an exception to it.

A/N

Merci mille fois pour tous les commentaires super sympas que vous prenez le temps de me laisser! Concernant l'usage de l'anglais, j'ai été sincèrement très touchée de voir que je parvenais à l'écrire d'une façon qui était suffisamment correcte pour ne pas trop manquer de respect à cette langue que j'affectionne tout particulièrement. En tout cas, j'essaye de faire du mieux que je peux... Merci pour les encouragements et toutes ces pensées positives que vous m'envoyez! vous êtes extras!

Oops... sorry, I felt the need to speak in my own language just a little, due to some messages and reviews I've received lately... so here's what I was saying:

thank you so much for all the real nice reviews you take the time to leave for me... As to me writing in English, I've been sincerely and deeply touched to know that you thought I was doing it in a way that was ok enough to not be too disrespectful to that language (which I really love). anyway, I'm trying my best... Thank you for your kind words and all the good vibes you send me! You rock!

thanks!

and until next chapter, have fun! ~ maya